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F.O.T.W
There he is again/searching...
for me - the object of his disdain/
his bete noire
Looking at him through the facets of my vision...
- He is a hulking one of them
The ones who seek to cut off my already
truncated life
Swish! a swift and practiced mano
takes aim
Lo Mein from last night's relvelry
my launch to escape
....too evasive...
Yet, my aggravation is apparent -
if only to myself
Agitated setae sit stilly upon a
bottled back
Nonetheless, I take this latest attack
in stride....An insignificant setback in this
current battle between he and I/between I
and them
Since this is a constant struggle/one that has
probably been going on since the inception of time...
I profoundly ponder past assualts from
whilom ages
Is this the Genocide that my brothers from
another phylum speak of through the whisper mill?
For, I am also Black, but very
uncomely/I am Black, but the sun
has not made me so...
No!...
I have attained my shape, size, and melanin
through the evolutionary hand of creation
Still, do I deserve to procreate,
to be fruitful and multiply?
Each day my numbers diminish
and nobody questions why?
Yet, every attempt to exterminate my existence
is met with a well executed jete
Since hardly anyone is successful the first time
I then let the momentum carry me high
and away/until I once again become a
negroid speck on a drab canvas
....A canvas that only I can bring color to...
...F.O.T.W?...
Fly On The Wall
